Bootleg's Tale
by waywardshepherd
Summary: A warstory about an extraction in the wilderness just past the NAN border, written from the perspective of street-smart smuggler Bootleg. Standard disclaimers: Shadowrun ain't mine, but Bootleg is, and all the other characters are creations belonging to my friends.


Seein' as how I'm laid up in the hospital for a couple of days, I thought I'd make a record of the events that led up to me ending up here, eatin' this nasty green soy-gelatin. I figure it'll be something good to have a few years from now, when I'm outta the biz and kickin' back.

It was a Saturday night when I got the call. Some woman calling herself Cutter had apparently gotten my name from Jared. She was asking if I wanted in on this retrieval job that he had tossed her way. I got the details from her and agreed to meet with the rest of the crew she was assembling. I wondered why my name had come up, but I figured I could bring some professionalism to the job. Smugglin' goods for the Yellow Lotus Triad has usually been good to me, but the lack of calls from them lately means that I could really stand to score some cred from one of these shadowrunnin' gigs.

So, I double-checked my gear before headin' out the door. Then, I drive my happy black ass on over to Moon's to get the details of the run and see who the rest of the crew is. Since Moon's isn't very far, I end up there before anyone except this one intense-lookin' Ork gal, decked out in shark's teeth and everything. She also ain't makin' no excuses for that sword she's sportin', but I get the impression it ain't just for show. She waves me over as I'm getting' my soybeer from Moon, who happens to be one big mother-fragger of a Troll. She introduces herself as Cutter and says the rest are on their way.

True to her word, an assortment of other wannabe 'runners comes trickling in. There's two humans: a real lean omae named Black Jack that don't have much to say and some cybered Russian going by Lightning. The other two members of our crew are a couple of cybered dwarves going by Willis and Jax. Jax comes off as another merc sort, since he's also suited up in camo. Willis is a little rough around the edges, but is probably stronger than even me, by the look of those pythons he's callin' arms.

Once everyone gets a beer and makes introductions, Cutter gives us the lowdown on this job. Apparently, we're supposed to bring somebody's little corp egghead home. Seems this Shane McCormick guy has flown the coop and big momma corp wants him back before he goes to work for the competition. Word is, he made his break with some Cascade Ork help, and I got called in for my smugglin' know-how. I can tell by the look of this crew that there's no way I'd be able to get us through any official checkpoint. Backroad border-jumpin' ain't my style, but I do know of a couple of places to go.

Time is of the essence, so we head out in the two vehicles available: my Americar and Willis's Bulldog van. I'm not keen on takin' my ride, but we've discovered that I'm probably the best driver and Willis's van is geared up for a dwarf, so I guess I'll have to. A quick stop to grab some last minute gear from Jax's nearby place and we're on our way to one of the "border crossings" accessible from Puyallup. The way I see it, those Cascade Ork boys probably took this joker across where he wouldn't be seen.

As we approach the border, the recon is left up to Jax and me. Despite some difficulties getting the vehicles through, we don't scare up any NAN border patrol attention. Since they firmly believe in "shoot first, ask questions later", I'm glad things are going so smoothly. I gotta admit, I was a little worried that the two LMG-totin' mercs would seriously throw off my groove, since heavy weapons and discrete don't usually go together, but things are okay for now

I led the crew all over the various encampments just across the border in the Cascade Ork lands before we found a guy I had dealt with before. He was willing to roll over on our target for an easy 2k¥, and we were able to convince Cutter that it was a fair price before she tried muscling more information out of him. He gave us GPS data on the cabin where the guy was holed up, waiting for some other group to retrieve him and deliver him to the loving arms of another corp.

Now that we knew where to find the guy, we drove out to the location and pulled up short so the mark wouldn't hear the vehicles. Lightning and I stayed with the rides while the rest of the crew went scouting. All was good until Cutter and Black Jack had an encounter with a certain big hairy critter. Cutter called me to say she had dropped the thing with her mojo, but that Black Jack had been knocked out cold, so she was hauling him back. I radioed Jax, the only other member of the crew savvy enough to have a transceiver, and filled him in. He seemed to dismiss the possibility of bigfoot attacks and he and Willis decided to press on.

About the time Cutter returns with Black Jack, Jax and Willis are finishing up their recon and taking positions near the cabin. Then, I hear over the radio that a bigfoot got the best of Willis, leaving Jax to haul him back so we can regroup. I gotta remember to keep my ass outta the woods, seein' as how I don't wanna end up as a well-dressed dinner for some hairy critter. Black Jack finally comes to and Jax makes it back with Willis, so I begin to think things will start running smoothly, now that we've run off the local wildlife. I couldn't have been more wrong.

Anyways, Cutter and Jax strike back out for the cabin. Apparently, the shark-woman wants to get a magical look at the place to see if anything strange is going on. We agree to follow behind in the vehicles, but that plan is soon abandoned, when we hear vehicles speeding up the road behind us. It's a darn good thing Willis has come to, since we decide to grab what we can and bail out of the cars into the cover of the woods. Just as we get clear, Willis's van blows up, followed shortly by my car. Damn, I hate to see a man lose his ride, but I really hate losin' mine. We guess that the punks who whiz past in a van sportin' an LMG and a passenger car are likely another team of 'runners, sent to retrieve our target. Seein' as how they wasn't too worried about shootin' up another man's car, I sure as hell ain't gonna be too worried about puttin' a few holes in them, once we catch up to 'em.

I radio Jax so that he and Cutter can clear out of the road, since I really don't feel like haulin' back any dead bodies and adding another name to Moon's Wall of Shadows. That trigger-happy merc Lightning decides to reveal our position by firing off a grenade round at the van in a desperate attempt to slow them down. He draws some heavy fire from that LMG as a result, and our asses are outta there. We realize that we have a chance to stop them after they've picked up our target, so we all take off for the fork in the road, where we think we can head them off.

By the looks of things, I didn't figure myself the best athlete amongst us, but I passed up Cutter and Jax on my way to the fork, even though they had a good head start. Fortunately for me, those two make it there just before the van and the car come back down from the cabin. Because of some lucky shots from my Savalette and Jax's skill with his grenade launcher, we take out a tire on the van. It's a good thing, too, since the smoke grenade I tossed went wide. It ain't enough, though, 'cause the van keeps going. By the way it's drivin' and shootin', I figure that van's rigged, which is bad news for us.

Lucky for us, Black Jack arrives on scene as the car rounds the corner, making our odds a little better. Jax and I abandon our cover in an attempt to shoot out its tires. We all seem to be thinkin' the same thing: the guy we want is gonna be in that car. Cutter is nowhere to be seen, but I figure she's aiming to get our mark when they bail out of the car. Thanks to some wild shots from Black Jack, the car loses 3 tires and spins to a stop alongside the van. I don't know what that LMG is shootin' at behind us, but it's not too interested in me right now, so I move on in to back up Jax, whose advancing on the van. At least they've stopped driving away.

As I'm coming around the edge of the trees, Jax comes over the radio hollerin' about some Sammy whose cuttin' him up bad. I start bookin' it towards him and get tagged by some fool with an assault rifle stickin' out the back of the van. I've been grazed by shots before, but they still sting like hell. By the time I get to Jax, the Sammy has laid him open with his 'spurs, but I got a stun baton with his name on it. I was always a heavy pipe-hittin' brother, but the extra kick in this little electric stick oughta do a number on Mr. Spur.

As I join in the brawl, I hear shots and shoutin' coming from the direction of the car. I'll just have to guess that the noise is from Cutter and Black Jack doing their thing. The Sammy lays me open pretty good, but me and Jax take him down as his buddy the merc jumps outta the van. I see that he's the punk with the assault rifle, so I give him a cold look as I drop his buddy and say "Bring it."

Jax and I go at him, only to be stopped when the rigger in the van comes over his loudspeaker and tells his team to stand down and let us take the target. I'm relieved, since me and Jax are tore up pretty bad, but I ain't about to trust these guys. We train our guns on the merc as we draw away, and I notice Willis bleedin' out on the ground near the woods, his crate of grenades emptied in front of him. Seems he took some serious heat tryin' to get to us. I can't let a guy who took shots for me just lay there bleedin', so I holster my Roomsweeper and carry Willis into the cover of the woods with me.

Our crew regroups and Black Jack uses my medkit to stabilize Willis. Cutter sets about to treatin' herself and the few of us she can with her mojo. The little corp pissant we came out here to retrieve has taken up whimpering over the wound Cutter gave him before she realized who he was. I put the pieces together and realize we need some wheels to get home. At 5 AM on a Sunday, the only dude I know who'd cross into the NAN for my ass is Trench, and he's gonna charge big time. We ain't got any other options, so I make the call and wake his big Troll ass up. Just my luck, he's hung-over and can't come. He says he'll call a friend for me, so I sit down to wait for it.

A few minutes of debatin' whether or not I'll need to buy a new suit passes before I call Trench back and wake him up again. He must still be drunk and went back to sleep, since he's dozin' off while I'm hollerin' at him. I guess the second time's a charm, since his buddy on this side of the border calls me back and will transport all of us back to Puyallup for 5 kY. We set up some coordinates for a pick-up, but Jax notices the transceiver the mark's wearin'. We trash the earpiece and I call our transport back to get a new location.

Fortunately for us, Trench's buddy is good at his job, and we make it back to a motel in Puyallup safely. I take Willis to the hospital while Cutter calls Jared. He wants to meet for the handoff tomorrow afternoon at Moon's.

I got my 7kY out of the job, as well as a new Americar, courtesy of Jared. He did the same favor for Willis, replacing the dwarf's van. Our whole crew now owes him a run for free, but I'm down with that. I've owed a few favors in my time. Sometimes, there's even a good windfall from ownin' up to them favors. I'll just have to see. For now, I'm gonna kick back and watch some more trid while I wait for the doc to give me the all clear. The longer I'm in this place, the less take-home pay from this run, and that means the sooner I have to run again. Maybe Johnny Wong will have another smuggling job for me soon.


End file.
